In the moment, Steve doesn't know if it's heartwarming or heartbreaking that Tony barely puts up a fight. That he shakes his head and pushes back but none of it feels deliberate. All he knows is that in the end, Tony's letting him hold him. Even if Steve is making it the path of least resistance, he still recognizes that it's a choice.
When they were in the hospital, Steve had practically disassociated Tony from his body because he had to stay hyper focused. Every single one of his reflexes was on high alert. He was ready for Tony's expression to change, for his hand to slip into his pocket, or behind his back, or for his feet the sprint forward, past Steve to Natasha's bed. To expect the unexpected, Steve had needed all of his attention, which is why he barely had the capacity to notice how it might have looked from the other side.
From Tony's side.
God damn it, Steve thinks. They were on opposite sides, once again. And then he hears those quiet words right next to his ear, Steve's arms unconsciously hold on a little tighter as his brow furrows and he rotates his head towards Tony in confusion.
"How..." It's barely a whisper, and it fades quickly as Steve's mind starts to play through what happened again. He's done this plenty of times now, but each playback has always had one thing in common: it's always been from Steve's perspective. It hadn't even occurred to him that Tony experienced something entirely different, and as he plays through it again ...
"... oh ... Tony."
The words are said under his breath, because Steve isn't even aware that he says them at all. Instead, suddenly he's back there in that room again, but standing at the door this time and as he remembers how everything unfolded, Steve finally sees it.
The way his back had been turned from the beginning. The careful motion he'd used to slowly spin around. The lack of recognition in his eyes when he'd looked at Tony the first time. The immovable posture that had set like stone across his shoulders. The stubbornness in his eyes when he'd refused to step aside. The movement sideways to cut Tony off from Natasha entirely. The way he'd kept looking at Natasha, like she's real. The way he'd kept looking at Tony, like he's not.
Steve asked himself earlier: What did I do? Apparently this time, when the question went out, Steve got his answer.
It doesn't help that he knows this all happened when Tony was most vulnerable. That the moment he needed comfort and someone to hold him, was when he first pushed open that hospital door, and not 48 hours later.
Steve came here tonight prepared (or maybe braced) for a lot of things, but apologizing had never been on the list. He didn't think there was anything he'd done wrong, because no matter how he runs through the scenario again, he doesn't see any other option. He'd prioritized both of their lives over everything else — hadn't that been the right call? Wasn't that always the right call?
If someone forced him to think through it all again this instant, Steve would probably still say that it was. But god everything sure feels a lot less black and white than it had a moment ago, and it's no contradiction to say that while he would make the same decisions again, there are also things he wants to apologize for.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice just scratching the tip of a whisper, and the tail end of his words seem to get snuffed out by a lack of air in Steve's lungs. "I never meant to hurt you." And yet, over and over again, here they are. "I'm so sorry that I did." It's the first time since they've been together that Steve wonders if maybe Tony would be better off without him. Maybe there's a reason he's never made it this far before. That he always seems to die, or go on the run before something gets serious. Before he can make someone feel like this.
His voice is quiet but steady, when Steve starts to speak again.
"There's nothing to correct, because you're right. You were my friend. You gave me a home when I didn't think I'd ever have one again. I don't think you know what that means to me." That last sentence slips in there accidentally, and there's an abrupt stop in his voice before Steve notices, recovers and pushes forward. "I know I've hurt you Tony. More than once. Every time I think I'm protecting you, somehow I manage to make things worse."
Silence takes over however, when Steve realizes that he's no longer making the point he'd set out to make. That his emotions and his guilt have taken control. You deserve better, and I don't deserve you. He nearly says it out loud, because deep down, Steve's always thought that was true, and that one day Tony will wake up and realize exactly how true it really is.
But Steve knows that if he says those words, he'll be signaling to Tony that he thinks this is the beginning of the end. And despite that voice inside his head, that isn't what he wants. Steve might always chose the world over the person he loves, but this isn't that choice.
"Come home?" he asks this time, quiet, even pleading, as the way Steve's arms are curled around Tony shift to something more gentle, and one of his hands follows Tony's arm and takes Tony's hand into his. "I don't deserve you. I know that. It's unfair for me to ask. I know that too. But come home? Let me show you the last few weeks happened. That you mean so much to me. And that even if I'm terrible at it, I've never stopped trying to be on your side."
no subject
When they were in the hospital, Steve had practically disassociated Tony from his body because he had to stay hyper focused. Every single one of his reflexes was on high alert. He was ready for Tony's expression to change, for his hand to slip into his pocket, or behind his back, or for his feet the sprint forward, past Steve to Natasha's bed. To expect the unexpected, Steve had needed all of his attention, which is why he barely had the capacity to notice how it might have looked from the other side.
From Tony's side.
God damn it, Steve thinks. They were on opposite sides, once again. And then he hears those quiet words right next to his ear, Steve's arms unconsciously hold on a little tighter as his brow furrows and he rotates his head towards Tony in confusion.
"How..." It's barely a whisper, and it fades quickly as Steve's mind starts to play through what happened again. He's done this plenty of times now, but each playback has always had one thing in common: it's always been from Steve's perspective. It hadn't even occurred to him that Tony experienced something entirely different, and as he plays through it again ...
"... oh ... Tony."
The words are said under his breath, because Steve isn't even aware that he says them at all. Instead, suddenly he's back there in that room again, but standing at the door this time and as he remembers how everything unfolded, Steve finally sees it.
The way his back had been turned from the beginning.
The careful motion he'd used to slowly spin around.
The lack of recognition in his eyes when he'd looked at Tony the first time.
The immovable posture that had set like stone across his shoulders.
The stubbornness in his eyes when he'd refused to step aside.
The movement sideways to cut Tony off from Natasha entirely.
The way he'd kept looking at Natasha, like she's real.
The way he'd kept looking at Tony, like he's not.
Steve asked himself earlier: What did I do? Apparently this time, when the question went out, Steve got his answer.
It doesn't help that he knows this all happened when Tony was most vulnerable. That the moment he needed comfort and someone to hold him, was when he first pushed open that hospital door, and not 48 hours later.
Steve came here tonight prepared (or maybe braced) for a lot of things, but apologizing had never been on the list. He didn't think there was anything he'd done wrong, because no matter how he runs through the scenario again, he doesn't see any other option. He'd prioritized both of their lives over everything else — hadn't that been the right call? Wasn't that always the right call?
If someone forced him to think through it all again this instant, Steve would probably still say that it was. But god everything sure feels a lot less black and white than it had a moment ago, and it's no contradiction to say that while he would make the same decisions again, there are also things he wants to apologize for.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice just scratching the tip of a whisper, and the tail end of his words seem to get snuffed out by a lack of air in Steve's lungs. "I never meant to hurt you." And yet, over and over again, here they are. "I'm so sorry that I did." It's the first time since they've been together that Steve wonders if maybe Tony would be better off without him. Maybe there's a reason he's never made it this far before. That he always seems to die, or go on the run before something gets serious. Before he can make someone feel like this.
His voice is quiet but steady, when Steve starts to speak again.
"There's nothing to correct, because you're right. You were my friend. You gave me a home when I didn't think I'd ever have one again. I don't think you know what that means to me." That last sentence slips in there accidentally, and there's an abrupt stop in his voice before Steve notices, recovers and pushes forward. "I know I've hurt you Tony. More than once. Every time I think I'm protecting you, somehow I manage to make things worse."
Silence takes over however, when Steve realizes that he's no longer making the point he'd set out to make. That his emotions and his guilt have taken control. You deserve better, and I don't deserve you. He nearly says it out loud, because deep down, Steve's always thought that was true, and that one day Tony will wake up and realize exactly how true it really is.
But Steve knows that if he says those words, he'll be signaling to Tony that he thinks this is the beginning of the end. And despite that voice inside his head, that isn't what he wants. Steve might always chose the world over the person he loves, but this isn't that choice.
"Come home?" he asks this time, quiet, even pleading, as the way Steve's arms are curled around Tony shift to something more gentle, and one of his hands follows Tony's arm and takes Tony's hand into his. "I don't deserve you. I know that. It's unfair for me to ask. I know that too. But come home? Let me show you the last few weeks happened. That you mean so much to me. And that even if I'm terrible at it, I've never stopped trying to be on your side."